


Minor Exceptions and Love

by Diary



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Bechdel Test Fail, Bottle Episode Fic, F/M, Family, Late Night Conversations, Love, Male-Female Friendship, POV Female Character, POV Gilly, Post-Episode: s04e09 The Watchers on the Wall, Sharing a Bed, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-12 00:19:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7076707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diary/pseuds/Diary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She’s half-afraid he’s going to wake up fully and ask how exactly baby Sam’s cradle is suddenly in his room. Complete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Minor Exceptions and Love

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Game of Thrones.

Gilly sets baby Sam into his cradle and goes over to slip under the covers of Sam’s bed.

He blinks and yawns. “Gilly?”

“It’s alright,” she insists. “He’s in his cradle over by your sock drawer.”

She lifts his arm enough she can slip her arms underneath his nightshirt, and pressing them against him and her own body, she hopes he’s sleepy enough he’ll accept this. He’s never- ‘liked’ isn’t quite the word, but when possible, he’s tried avoiding sleeping with little Sam, even though, sometimes, being between them was the only thing to sooth their little one’s fussiness. He’d go on about accidentally rolling on top of the baby and how his father only ever let his baby sister sleep with their mother.

Knowing him, though, she’s half-afraid he’s going to wake up fully and ask how exactly baby Sam’s cradle is suddenly in his room.

The answer is, Jon Snow had come across her dragging it, told her to take baby Sam out, and when she had, motioned another man over to help him pick it up. He’d more stated than asked, ‘Sam’s room?’, and she’d gratefully nodded.

“Gilly,” he protests, and unfortunately, his voice is starting to lose its bleariness, “we’ve talked about this.”

 _He’s_ talked, at any rate. She could spend every minute of the days reading the books in the library, and she’d never be as smart as him. For all he goes on about how knowing books isn’t the same as being smart, he has all these facts inside his head, and she has how to be a wife.

When it comes to getting the others to let her and baby Sam stay, this is helpful, but since Sam won’t let her actually be one-

He’s kissed her a few times, but there was always some danger and death lurking close by in the shadows.

She knows what the others think of what she and her sisters did with Craster, but she can’t bring herself to feel the same way. If little Sam had been a girl, she doesn’t like the thought of her daughter one day doing the same, but life was simply this way.

A wife is meant to lie with her husband, and she had.

Once when Sam had kissed her, later on, she’d reached down between her legs, tried to imagine him doing what Craster did, and in her mind, the basic act was the same, but pleasure had built and built until it made her shiver, shake, and lie breathless and peacefully spent. He’d be gentler, she knew, and they’d both likely be clumsy. His heavy, solid weight would surround her and make her feel safe, and his ever-moving fingers would trace every part of her and help him learn, probably even better than she, how to make pleasure overtake her.

He won’t allow this, though, and- it’ll have to be fine. She doesn’t need such things to be happy, and as much as she’d like to someday truly share a baby with him and to give little Sam a brother or sister to love and be loved by like she loved and was loved by her sisters, she won’t push.

He needs to allow her this, at least, however.

When he sent her and little Sam away, she had nightmares about something happening to him.

Now, she has nightmares about something happening to all of them.

They need to stay together so they can protect each other and baby Sam. She needs his warm, solid strength and soft, musky smell to assure her he’s still alive and unhurt. He might try to say otherwise, but he needs her pressed against him to reassure him, too.

She’s tried to tell him, _you said, ‘wherever you go, I go’_ , but he just goes on about how, obviously, there are minor exceptions to this.

She understands minor exceptions just fine. She doesn’t particularly want him around when she’s using the chamber pot or during her writing lessons (whether he means to or not, he makes her feel bad about her slow progress and irritated at his smug knowledge and ease). She’s sure he doesn’t want her around during certain things either.

Sleeping for hours away from one another and making baby Sam sleep hours without both of them nearby aren't minor exceptions.

“Gilly,” he persists.

“This isn’t breaking your vows. It’s not like before, when we were running, but it’s cold outside, and the wind is howling.”

“Is there no fire in your room? What about the window? Jon-”

 _‘It’s okay to be annoyed with me. Really, it is, I promise,’_ he’d once told her.

She still has trouble believing this sometimes with memories of Craster in her head, but she believes him.  

Just because it’s okay doesn’t mean it’s helpful.

Taking a breath, she interrupts, “There’s a fire, and the window’s locked. Sam, I have nightmares when you’re not with me, and baby Sam wakes up fussy several times. If you want, I can leave in the morning, before the bells ring, but don’t make us go. You need us, and we need you.”

He hesitates, and she presses closer against him and briefly rubs her head against his shoulder.

“Alright,” he softly says. “Here.”

She rolls away and sighs when he turns on his side and envelopes her in his strong, gentle arms.

She feels a soft kiss on her head, and he says, “Goodnight, Gilly.”

“Goodnight, Sam.” _I love you._


End file.
